My mom is my high school English teacher
One person in particular comes to mind above all others when I think back on my educational journey: my mother. She is not just any teacher, she is my English teacher, and it is in her classroom that I have seen her develop into the teacher that she is today. Sitting in the corner of her classroom, I have seen her discipline, devotion and constant commitment to her students’ achievement. I remember I used to skip school because I was “sick” just so I could go sit in her classroom. Now, as a student sitting in her class, among my peers, I have come to understand that being her child in her class is both a privilege and a challenge.
It feels both familiar and strange, like it did back when I watched her students do work when I was younger, and now, I face the same struggles of finishing 50-page annotations before my basketball practice starts. I now have a different understanding of my mom’s work ethic after watching her interactions with students, how she tries so hard to teach them and how late she stays up to grade their work.
My freshman year opened a new chapter in my mindset, and I soon found that people would assume that my mother would be lenient or favor me just because I am her kid. If anything, my mother holds me to a higher standard than any of her other students. She does not excuse me from being late or ignore poor-quality work; instead, she pushes me to do well and reminds me that just because I am her child, it does not mean I can get away with being lazy.
Contrary to popular belief, familiarity does not equate to leniency in my mom’s case. Her standards are strong and she has set expectations for me. She instills in me the value of honesty, diligence and achieving success with hard work and dedication. Although she has a well-deserved reputation as “Scary Mekari,” beyond that, there is a love of teaching, a commitment to her job and a sincere wish to see her students succeed. Sure, my mother can be scary. Even the most self-assured student will shudder at her realistic standards and no-nonsense attitude. However, the instructor concealed behind that hard exterior is deserving of nothing less than honesty, kindness and respect.
Sitting in her class often makes me aware of the difficulties she has to deal with. I have direct experience with her tireless attempts to include her students and to cultivate a love of learning. Yet, even if there are many challenges ahead, my mother never gives up because she is passionate about learning and has a firm belief in the transformational potential of education.
My mother is more than just my instructor; she is also my mentor, my biggest supporter and my role model. She not only passes onto me the importance of language and literature, but also priceless lessons in dedication, morality and the significance of never settling for mediocrity. I will always be appreciative of that.
